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THE CASE FOR REPEALING THE ANTITRUST REGULATIONS
Based Upon “The Case For Reforming the Antitrust Regulations (If Repeal Is Not an Option)” in The Harvard Journal of Law and Public Policy, Vol. 23, No. 1, Fall 1999. pp. 23-58.
FRED L. SMITH, JR. President and Founder
Competitive Enterprise Institute 1001 Connecticut Avenue, NW
Suite 1250 Washington, DC 20036
Voice: (202) 331-1010 Fax: (202) 331-0640
Email: [email protected]
The life of a free marketeer is not always happy one. A few weeks ago, I advised a group
of politicians on how best to communicate their message in a world of rational ignorance—that
is to say, a world where opinions are important, but no one is listening. Last week, I spoke with
leaders of the automotive and chemical industries about the need to legitimize their companies if
they wished to avoid the pariah status now enjoyed by the tobacco industry. And now, I seek to
persuade an audience of lawyers that we should abolish antitrust laws, which have become
increasingly lucrative for the legal profession.
My remarks are organized into four sections. Part I narrates the personal odyssey that has
led me to this conclusion—an odyssey, by the way, that I believe mirrors the general trend in
thinking by most members of our society. Part II discusses the threat posed by antitrust
regulation to innovative business practices by examining the regulation of airline computer
reservations systems. Part III reviews and expands upon the arguments for repeal That I first
made in my article, Why Not Abolish Antitrust?, which was published in 1983.1 Part Four
1 See Fred L. Smith, Jr., Why Not Abolish Antitrust?, REGULATION 23 (Jan./Feb. 1983).
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considers what might be done to move us, if not all the way to repeal, then at least toward a more
rational regulatory policy.
I. The Evolution of My Distaste for Antitrust
The Competitive Enterprise Institute ("CEI") is an activist policy group. Our goal is to
link intellectual activity with policy-making. We believe that ideas can indeed have
consequences, but that they are far more likely to do so if they are aggressively promoted on the
battlegrounds of public policy. That is CEI’s mission, and in my humble opinion, we are
learning to do it well.
CEI’s involvement with antitrust regulation began almost at our inception in 1984. At
that time, America was deregulating significant sectors of the economy—transportation, most
notably, but also banking and telecommunications as well. Under the traditional economic
regulatory regimes, these industries had largely escaped antitrust regulation. The trucking
industry, for example, was permitted to create rate bureaus to coordinate pricing and other
marketing policies. However, once antitrust regulatory laws were imposed, these long-standing
practices became illegal. In fact, although the era of economic regulation was supposedly
coming to a close, one form of regulation merely replaced another. CEI testified on these issues
and sought to clarify the efficiency, equitable, and political arguments against antitrust
regulation. It soon began publishing the Washington Antitrust Report ("WAR"), whose logo was
a bust of that noted trustbuster, FDR, with a red bar across his chest. Our motto in those early,
feisty days was “Busting the Trustbusters Since 1984!”
CEI’s antitrust work reflected my own newly acquired views on antitrust. Like many of
my era, I entered the realm of public policy as a knee-jerk liberal and viewed antitrust (when I
thought of it at all, which was seldom) as a good thing. After all, I had grown up in the populist
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state of Louisiana—“every man a king” and all that—during the heady days of the Civil Rights
movement. Since I wasn’t a racist, I naturally assumed that I must be a liberal. Like most
“progressive intellectuals,” I was persuaded that a world guided by the Best and the Brightest
(that is, by people like myself) would naturally function far better than one in which the chaos of
a laissez-faire marketplace had been unleashed upon an unsuspecting public. That view went
almost unchallenged in my youth.
My own intellectual arrogance was but a reflection of the post-World War II mindset
about government intervention. While government interference in the economy is, by most
measures, greater today than it was then, the mood toward such intervention has changed
considerably. In the 1940s, the positive role of government seemed obvious to everyone; today,
however, few see the government as an obvious solution for much of anything. The arrogance of
the earlier mood is captured nicely in the writings of the progressive era elite, such as that of the
antitrust champion, Thurmond Arnold, author of The Folklore of Capitalism.2 The hubris, or
"fatal conceit,”3 of Arnold—who later headed the antitrust division at the Department of Justice
("DOJ")—must be read to be believed. He had no doubt that he and his contemporaries could
easily improve upon the chaotic performance of an unplanned market. He saw antitrust
regulation as a straightforward policy that would advance consumer interests. True, past
2 THURMOND W. ARNOLD, THE FOLKLORE OF CAPITALISM (1980) (1937). 3 F.A. Hayek, The Fatal Conceit: The Errors of Socialism, in THE COLLECTED WORKS OF F.A. HAYEK (W.W. Bartley III ed., 1988). Charles Rowley summarized Hayek’s use of the term “fatal conceit” in a law review article last year: "[It is a] synoptic delusion, a delusion in which intellectuals assume that all relevant information is known to a single elite mind . . . and that this mind is capable of constructing from such universal knowledge the particulars of a desirable social order . . . In reality, every individual is necessarily ignorant of most of the particular facts that determine the actions of other members of human society." See Charles K. Rowley, Wealth Maximization in Normative Law and Economics: A Social Choice Analysis, 6 GEO. MASON L. REV. 971, 994 (1998).
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antitrust policy had been a failure, but only because intellectual misconceptions—the “folklore”
of his title—had led to timid enforcement. Arnold therefore argued for aggressive antitrust
regulation, and sought to implement that policy when he later headed the antitrust division.
I had grown up toward the end of that era, but my metamorphosis from a true believer to
an antitrust skeptic is perhaps not unique. Like others, my liberal views faded quickly when I
came to Washington. My five years at the Environmental Protection Agency acquainted me—
painfully—with regulatory policy as it is, not as we would have it. Still, like most free
marketeers, I viewed antitrust regulation as somehow “different.” After all, antitrust regulation
was supposed to be the one interventionist policy that could prevent market forces from
destabilizing the competitive process. My views were naïve but not atypical; indeed, they are
still held by some.
Consider, for example, this statement quoted approvingly by Irwin Stelzer in his recent
book with John H. Shenefield: "Antitrust laws . . . are the Magna Carta of free enterprise. They
are as important to the preservation of economic freedom and our free-enterprise system as the
Bill of Rights is to the protection of our fundamental personal freedoms."4 I once believed that.
But my views on antitrust began to change as I confronted the grim reality of the regulatory state,
and as I began reading the literature on antitrust. Robert Bork’s The Antitrust Paradox5 was
particularly influential in my evolution. That book made me aware that the virtues of antitrust
regulation were not so straightforward after all. Bork made it clear that antitrust blocked or
hindered a vast array of pro-competitive practices. It became obvious that certain practices,
4IRWIN STELZER & JOHN H. SHENEFIELD, THE ANTITRUST LAWS: A PRIMER 1 (3rd ed. 1998) (quoting United States v. Topco Assocs., Inc., 405 U.S. 596, 610 (1972)). 5 ROBERT H. BORK, THE ANTITRUST PARADOX: A POLICY AT WAR WITH ITSELF (1993) (1978).
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which might (or almost certainly would) enhance efficiency, had instead been demonized by the
very terms used to refer to them—"exclusionary arrangements," "predatory pricing," and
"pricing discrimination," to name but a few.
My reading of Bork, along with an array of other scholars in the field, led me to wonder
why all this criticism of antitrust regulation had not elicited a call for its repeal. As I continued
to read, I found that even the case against “naked” price fixing—perhaps the most universally
reviled business practice—was weak. Anyone who has read Bork must have noticed the strange
shift in tone between his thoughtful defense of retail price maintenance and tying arrangements,
on the one hand, and his rather bald assertion that “naked” price fixing is “clearly” anti-
competitive, on the other hand. Of course, “naked” arrangements—presumably arrangements
with no possible efficiency enhancing potential—of any sort are dubious, but why should we
presume that price coordination has no efficiency gains? A world of reduced price variability
results in efficiency gains such as lower search costs. Might not these efficiency gains justify
price coordination, in the same way that quantity coordination is readily justified by the lower
inventory costs made possible by a more stable supply system?
CEI brought this question to the forefront as we sought to fend off what we perceived as
the re-regulation of the trucking industry. As noted above, one possibly pro-competitive aspect
of the Interstate Commerce Commission’s ("ICC") regulation was that it granted the industry
immunity from the antitrust laws. Trucking firms were able to form regional “rate bureaus,”
arrangements whereby independent trucking firms could coordinate and share pricing
information. Of course, during the ICC regulatory era, such pricing policies were enforced by
the government. In this context, the anti-competitive nature of such arrangements was obvious.
CEI argued, however, that in the new non-regulatory world, such coordination efforts might well
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play a positive role. We noted that “list pricing” was generally understood to be a useful device
in reducing buyer search cost, and suggested that rate bureaus might play a comparable role in
the transportation sector. Lower search costs might be particularly useful for smaller shippers
and carriers and allow them to reduce the transaction costs of arriving at reasonable rates. We
noted also that larger firms, with more extensive internal flows of information and more
sophisticated management strategies, would have less need for such cooperative arrangements.
That is, as others have noted, the effect of such antitrust regulation was to encourage companies
to merge in order to achieve efficiencies that the antitrust laws would otherwise block.6
CEI viewed cooperative price sharing arrangements, cooperative research and
development ("R&D") efforts, and standard setting arrangements not as means of reducing
competition, but rather as ways of achieving efficiencies in one set of tasks that might require a
different scale to achieve efficiency. We viewed such arrangements as “partial mergers.” We
had been persuaded by Coase's insight that the modern corporation is an ad hoc assemblage of
activities that are presumptively best handled within one command-and-control structure. Since
the optimal scale at which tasks are best performed might differ from task to task, we saw the
firm as a compromise between small-scale efficiency activities, such as security or janitorial
services that might be handled by contract with an independent firm, and large-scale activities
handled by cooperative arrangements, such as R&D and pricing. To ban partial mergers simply
because they involved cooperative activities between competitors seemed arbitrary and
capricious.
We at CEI were also persuaded more generally by Coase's suggestion that there was no
theory by which economists might readily distinguish between competitive and anti-competitive
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behavior. To Coase, after all, the firm was the realm where non-price coordination had been
found superior to price coordination. Yet economists had little understanding of non-price
competition. We rarely understood why price signals were more efficient for some transactions,
while mandates worked better elsewhere. Nevertheless, antitrust authorities continued to rely
heavily on market theory to critique non-market actions of the firm. When the efficiency gains
of such a practice become obvious, the antitrust authorities are willing to accept the practice, but
when they don’t know, they tend to condemn it. For example, the willingness of antitrust
enforcers to attack list pricing or capacity expansion plans might be tempered if a strong case
could be made that such practices would actually reduce search costs or improve long-term
capacity utilization. The anticipated efficiency gains that motivate innovative corporate behavior
are often subtle and complex, and usually only dimly perceived even by the innovator. They are
likely to be misunderstood by those outside the firm, and they are almost certain to be
misunderstood by those already skeptical of markets. These important Coasian insights, received
little immediate attention from anyone other than CEI.
CEI, however, believed that antitrust policy deserved the same critical appraisal that
economic regulation had already received. As noted earlier, this lack of scrutiny was at least in
part the result of the economists’ lack of any truly coherent theory of corporate organization.
Ronald Coase was almost alone in his understanding that economics should consider the whole
array of voluntary arrangements, not simply price theory. The following quote from Coase
acutely diagnoses the arrogance of economists who seek to assess non-market behavior by
market analytic tools:
In the late nineteenth century, when economists came to be interested in problems
of industrial organization, they were confronted with the problem of the trust in
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the United States and the cartel in Germany. It was therefore natural that, with
the development of antitrust policy in the United States, interest in the antitrust
aspects of industrial organization came to dominate the subject. This had its good
and its bad effects but, in my opinion, the bad by far outweigh the good. It has . .
. encouraged men to become economic statesmen—men, that is, who provide
answers even when there are no answers. This tendency has discouraged a
critical questioning of the data and of the worth of the analysis, leading the many
able scholars in this field to tolerate standards of evidence and analysis which, I
believe, they would otherwise have rejected.7
Sadly, most scholars of the Chicago School have failed to practice the Coasian virtue of humility
when faced by novel entrepreneurial practices. Most have argued that antitrust should be
trimmed back to more respectable bounds, but agreed that antitrust regulation remained a policy
worthy of support. Their goal was an enlightened economics-based antitrust policy to replace the
irrational populist antitrust policies of the past.8 Their goal was reform, not repeal.
CEI’s work suggested another weakness of the Chicago School's antitrust theory—the
lack of any thoughtful public choice perspective. Little attention had been paid to the risk that
antitrust, with its weak theoretical underpinnings and sturdy populist appeal, might be used by
firms to recoup market losses. Nor had the motivations of the bureaucrats administering these
programs received sufficient attention. Although scholars of the Chicago School are generally
viewed as cynical, in the antitrust field, they seemed to act as if economics were a religion that, if
its tenets were strictly obeyed, would create a priestly class responsible for defining and
7 R. H. COASE, THE FIRM, THE MARKET, AND THE LAW 66-67 (1988) (emphasis added). 8 See generally The Fire of Truth: A Remembrance of Law and Economics at Chicago, 1932-1970, 26 J.L. & ECON. 163 (Edmund W. Kitch, ed., 1983).
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implementing antitrust regulatory policies. Furthermore, the “fatal conceit” of all intellectuals—
here, the hubris of the very talented members of the Chicago School—abounded. Lawyers might
be corruptible, they thought, but certainly not our economists!
And for a while, the antitrust regulatory problem did seem to be well in hand. True, no
one was willing to seek repeal or even reform of the major antitrust statutes, but what harm could
such an attenuated policy possibly cause? In the heady days of the 1970s and 1980s, regulatory
reform seemed a foregone conclusion. Economists were everywhere triumphant. Jim Miller
actually claimed that antitrust regulation had been forever cut back to legitimate bounds. Further
legislative action would be redundant, he opined, for the world had changed forever.9
We at CEI, however, had our doubts. It was true that there had been a great deal of
improvement. But the arguments for banning transportation rate bureaus seemed uncomfortably
similar to the arguments that had been used earlier to ban tying and exclusionary arrangements.
Antitrust enforcers had also cracked down on cooperative R&D arrangements, fearing that they
might in fact be a way for competitors to signal pricing plans. Moreover, state and private
antitrust action had proven resistant to the new economic thinking blowing out of Chicago. Most
importantly, new areas of institutional and technological change—areas that were confusing even
to economists—were starting to be seen as ripe for regulation, even by dedicated Chicagoans. It
is to one such new area—and to the havoc wrought by the successful attempt to regulate it—that
I now turn.
II. A Case in Point: Antitrust and the Threat to Innovation
9 James C. Miller III, Thomas F. Walton, William E. Kovacic & Jeremy A. Rabkin, Industrial Policy: Reindustrialization Through Competition or Coordinated Action?, 2 YALE J. ON REG. 1, (1984).
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My experience at CEI challenging the application of antitrust regulation to the computer
reservation systems ("CRS") used by airlines to market their services further strengthened my
growing convictions that antitrust should be repealed. The decision to regulate the CRS
foreshadowed many of the problems that have arisen in more recent years with respect to
Microsoft and other network systems. Like the re-regulation of trucking discussed earlier, the
policy toward the CRS emerged as the airlines were being deregulated and the Civil Aeronautics
Board was being abolished. The ("DOJ") and the Department of Transportation ("DOT") had
become convinced that the most innovative element in airline industry—the CRS—required
antitrust oversight. Few people even understood what these systems were or how they operated,
much less what their impact on the marketplace was likely to be. And as Coase had warned,
when economists do not understand something, they worry, and that worry led the DOJ to
perceive the “essential” nature of such marketing systems as a threat to the recent creation of
competition in the airline industry.
In order to appreciate the magnitude of the CRS's innovative potential, one must first
understand how the CRS had developed. The airlines had gradually developed internal inventory
control systems to manage sales—elaborate accounts of the number of seats available on various
flights, the number that had been sold at various prices, and the number still available—that
were then used with various sales strategies to market outstanding inventory. Airline seats are a
very perishable commodity—once the airline takes off, no more seats can be sold—and those
unfilled seats represent lost revenue. Moreover, since airlines normally operate at levels where
the cost of flying one more passenger is less than the average cost of flying that seat, each seat
can, in theory, be sold at a very low price. As long as marginal costs are covered, each sale helps
cover the fixed cost of moving the plane from City A to City B.
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In the era before deregulation, airlines found it very difficult to acquire operating rights
between cities and therefore many flights were “inter-lined”—that is, a passenger would travel
on several airlines from origin to destination. That meant that the airline ticketing systems and
thus their CRS systems had to contain information not only on the airline operating the CRS but
also on all airlines that might interline with that airline. Elaborate systems of data exchange thus
developed to ensure that these constantly fluctuating inventory control systems were transferred
in a timely fashion.
The airlines that had developed the most sophisticated of these systems—such as
American, United, and Delta—began offering their systems to their own internal sales
departments and then to independent travel agents. Travel agents saw no reason to purchase or
lease more than one system, and therefore demanded that the systems be reasonably
comprehensive. In effect, then, each CRS was a way of selling seats both on the host airline and
on rival airlines, thus comprising the kind of competitive/cooperative arrangement that raises the
ire of antitrust advocates.
When the computer age arrived, these systems could display flight availability on
computer screens at remote locations. Then (and now) the capacity of any single screen was
limited, so that when a travel agent requested data on flights from City A to City B for a certain
day and time, some rule was necessary to determine the order in which flights would be
displayed. Some decisional rules were unexceptional—direct flights preceded multi-stop flights,
for example. But others proved more controversial, such as whether the host airline’s flights
would appear before rival airlines, and, if so, how much “bias,” or difference in time, would be
permitted.
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The CRS creators, of course, sought to maximize the profitability of their systems. In
effect, the CRS operated much like a supermarket manages its shelves. Some items would be
given priority shelf space, others less salient space. Recall that the CRS emerged during airline
deregulation, which coincided with the extremely rapid development of computer technology.
The airlines were experimenting with an array of contractual relationships in which some airlines
merely participated, while others were co-hosts—that is, they helped pay for the systems and for
their development. Most CRS providers treated the flights of all co-host airlines as they did their
own, while other airlines would receive somewhat less desirable “shelf” space.
These initial CRS services were used mostly by sophisticated travel agents, who could
quickly scroll down to a customer's preferred airline. But this extra "effort" was considered
discriminatory by some at the DOJ and the DOT, and hearings were held to investigate this
threat to competition. Great attention was paid to the "time" required to execute only a few
keystrokes, to the "complexity" of re-designing first screens by computer-proficient travel
agents, and to the "barriers" placed on such practices by the host CRS provider.
At that time, United Airlines was headed by Richard Ferris. Ferris had championed
United's CRS, extolling it as a way to transform United from an airline into a full-service travel
company. He envisioned using the CRS to bundle air, ground, and hotel sales into one
transaction cost-reducing package. Whether that dream would have worked, we’ll probably
never know. Ferris testified at a Senate hearing on the issue and was demolished. His plan
required an extremely ambitious use of a very innovative concept, and depended on pricing and
packaging strategies to encourage profitable use of the system. These strategies, in turn, would
have depended on his success in negotiating agreements with car rental agencies, hotels, and
other tourist services. At the hearing, he was questioned sharply about his proposals, and about
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the general concept of CRS. The Senators clearly didn’t understand the idea, and their sharp
questioning insinuated that United (and Ferris personally) were guilty of anti-competitive,
exclusionary arrangements. Ferris was a businessman, not a politician, and certainly not one
skilled at arguing the case for shielding this technology from regulation. He was embarrassed by
the whole episode and clearly discomfited That disaster led him to pull back and abandon his
efforts. He left United the following year
United and the other major CRS airlines soon capitulated and signed a consent decree
sharply limiting their ability to use these systems as a competitive tool. The DOT then
administered rules that severely restricted the operation of development of CRS systems. These
rules prescribed even minutiae such as the format and nature of the information provided on the
screens. So-called “bias” was eliminated, so that no airline could receive “priority.” And no
information could be provided for any airline unless that same information could be supplied for
all participating airlines. Not surprisingly, these restrictions considerably slowed the evolution
of this once-flourishing technology.
CEI sought to intervene in all this. We were aware that CRS was the first instance of an
electronic “supermarket,” although these terms were not in use at the time. CRS was the
prototype commercial internet marketing tool, and the technology was clearly dynamic. We
considered any limitation on its potential for innovation as fundamentally misguided and
potentially disastrous. Moreover, we argued that these regulations were also restricting
speech—speech of an electronic nature, to be sure, where the medium for communication was
supplied by a party profiting from the customers attracted by the information—but we did not
see these factors as raising any real substantive problems. The commercial free speech argument
had already been raised successfully against earlier charges that the Official Airline Guide’s
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("OAG") practice of listing the timetables of regional airlines in a separate section from those of
the larger airlines constituted anti-competitive bias. The DOJ argued that the OAG was an
"essential" facility and therefore restrictions on the normal freedom of the provider to determine
the conditions of use were justified. The OAG challenged these rules as an attempt to regulate
speech and prevailed. Of course, in a few years, the OAG “essential facility” was replaced by
the CRS systems.
Tragically, the airlines did not raise the commercial free speech defense. Nor did they
argue that the charges against them were akin to those raised earlier against supermarkets. After
all, a supermarket owns the shelves in its store and decides where to put which brands.
Moreover, the store sells its own “store” brands that compete with nationally advertised
independent products. Of course, a supermarket would expect to profit by selling its own
products, by selling shelf space or point-of-sale advertising, and by selling products that
competed with its own lines.
The shift of these practices to the electronic world, we believed, raised no new problems.
Moreover, we believed that the dynamism of this newly emerging technology would guarantee
that any glitches would swiftly be corrected. We testified on the issue, met with DOJ and DOT
officials, and then entered a suit challenging the resulting regulations, which we argued were in
conflict with the law on commercial speech. Our interventions were ignored, and we failed to
achieve standing in our suit. The court found that while CEI's representation of a travel agent
fulfilled the requirement for a "willing listener, "we lacked a "willing speaker," and no airline
was willing to join our challenge. The reluctance of the airlines to join CEI was not surprising.
The major competitive advantage of the pre-regulation CRS was that it permitted the leading
airlines to slightly disadvantage their leading competitors by placing them a bit farther down on
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the list of available flights. United would place American slightly farther down the list, and
American would return the favor for United flights. The result, of course, was that the other
airlines received slightly higher ranks than they would have otherwise. When “bias” was
eliminated, United moved up on the American system and vice versa, while all other airlines
moved down somewhat. The antitrust restriction on competitive use of the CRS, then, actually
reduced competition. Moreover, the rules ensured that the United/American market leadership
would endure fewer challenges from creative newcomers, since any changes to the system would
have to undergo DOT oversight, thus making "sneak attacks" impossible.
The resulting slowdown of CRS technology damaged the competitiveness of these
systems. Much of the innovative lead that these systems had enjoyed slowly eroded as the
internet evolved. Today, much of the air travel business has moved to the internet (as have the
airlines themselves). Not surprisingly, however, American and United view the less-regulated
internet providers as threats to their competitive position, and have therefore joined in the
general attack on Microsoft. Once these airlines opposed the expansion of the antitrust rules to
the electronic marketing world, and now they endorse it. No one aware of public choice theory
or of the strategic anti-competitive uses of regulation would find any of this surprising.
I will conclude my account of the misadventures of CRS regulation by recalling a telling
exchange between myself and a proponent of CRS regulation. I argued, “Regulating the most
rapidly evolving technology in the world is insane!” The proponent countered, "Okay, it may be
crazy, but so what? What costs will such rules incur? What will be prevented?” I replied, "I
don't know. I don't know computer technology, but, who knows, maybe someday some new
airline will need publicity and will request to advertise on a CRS, say, by putting a red and white
blinking ad on the screen saying something like, New Entry Airline—Low Fares—Extra High
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Commissions—Book Now!” The proponent looked at me strangely and said, "Computers can't
do that." I said, "I know," and gave up. And CRS still can’t do that—but the internet ticket sale
sites can, and do.
The fight against CRS regulation persuaded CEI and myself that antitrust regulations
were particularly risky in dynamic, innovative sectors of the economy, where a new batch of
economists were merrily hatching theories to explain how seemingly competitive practices might
actually be non-competitive. My personal favorite among these outlandish theories was that of
predatory innovation, in which a firm would introduce a creative new product not to gain market
share or to increase profits, oh no, but rather to block a competitor.
I came to realize that the real costs of antitrust regulations are the innovations never
realized, which are almost impossible to quantify. We can never know the kind of world that
might have emerged had regulatory barriers not been in place. For this reason, agreements not to
compete in an emerging market—one of the results of the CRS consent decree—can have
especially dire consequences.
More recently, Bill Gates' refusal to capitulate in the DOJ suit has puzzled many, but one
reason may well be that Gates, unlike most in his industry, recognizes all too well the transient
nature of market leadership. Like Ayn Rand, he understands that the supremacy of Microsoft
must be earned every day in the marketplace from consumers who are all too ready to change
allegiance. The CRS saga suggests that he is right. It also demonstrates that markets are
unpredictable and capable of self-policing, since no bureaucrat is likely to be as imaginative or as
creative as a competitor.
To a newcomer to the antitrust field, all this was a bit confusing. With all the intellectual
confusion, populist rhetoric, and rent-seeking risks associated with antitrust regulation, why did
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it still enjoy immunity from the criticism and calls for repeal that other economic regulatory
policies received as a matter of course? Moreover, why were so few of these problems being
examined, particularly those associated with rent-seeking and dynamic efficiency? Why not
simply get rid of antitrust regulation? Indeed, during the Reagan/Bush era, Ira Millstein, an out-
of-fashion progressive antitrust advocate, tweaked his Chicago School colleagues. He contended
that when his side was in charge, at least they had acted on their convictions.10 Millstein and
other advocates of antitrust had hoped to enact laws that would automatically mandate the
division of a firm or corporation when it reached some critical mass. Such measures were
actually proposed and, in some cases, nearly became law.11 Yet, Millstein noted, when his side
lost influence and the Chicago School came into power, did they seek an abolishment of the
10 Ira Millstein. 11 Bork has described some of the legislation proposed during this era:
The Petroleum Industry Competition Bill, which won astonishingly wide support in the Senate in 1976, was designed to destroy vertical integration in the major oil companies by requiring that each company confine itself to one of three phases of the industry: production, transportation, or refining and marketing. There is no reason to believe that the destruction of national wealth involved in the enactment of these bills or other recent proposed legislation would be compensated by any social gain.
BORK, supra note 5, at 6. He then went on to note:
A few years ago, the late Senator Philip Hart . . . introduced a proposed Industrial Reorganization Act. Reflecting the current shibboleth that monopoly is everywhere, the bill would have directed antitrust attack at about 140 of the nation’s largest 200 companies in seven industries. More recently, Senator Hart introduced a bill that would make it no defense in a civil monopolization action that defendant’s monopoly was “due to superior product, business acumen, or historic accident,” thus proposing to break up market positions based on superior efficiency.
Id. at 6, n.1.
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antitrust rules? Far from it, he noted. Instead, they came up with the Herfindahl-Herschman
Index!12
All this prompted me to write an article, Why Not Abolish Antitrust?, in 1983 for
Regulation magazine, then published by the American Enterprise Institute.13 I reread it before
writing this article. Perhaps not surprisingly, I still agree with it. Indeed, it seems now that I was
far too favorably inclined toward antitrust. In 1983, I believed that while the case for antitrust
repeal was conceptually strong, the actual damage likely to be done by continued regulation was
limited. I had not realized the extent to which bad laws, when left in place, can become serious
threats to economic liberty and efficiency—in other words, that pruned weeds can swiftly
become very healthy weeds indeed. Given the disruption to the economy currently being
wrought by the antitrust laws, I believe that the case for repeal is even stronger now than it was
in 1983.
III. Reviewing the Case Against Antitrust Regulation14
My 1983 article made five major arguments against antitrust regulation: (1) that antitrust
restricts the rights of individuals to determine with whom and under what conditions they wish to
deal, (2) that antitrust theory is inadequate to determine which acts are or are not competitive, (3)
that evidence is lacking that antitrust achieves any substantive consumer gains, (4) that antitrust
blocks efficiency gains, and (5) that antitrust laws tend to encourage businessmen to look to
government rather than the market for success.15 In my earlier article, I dealt primarily with the
12 Millstein, supra note 8. 13 See Smith, Why Not Abolish Antitrust?, supra note 1. 14 This section of the paper draws heavily from my 1983 Regulation article, supra note 1. 15 See id.
19
case against antitrust action in the price-fixing area. The following section articulates these
arguments somewhat differently, since I am now considering the full array of antitrust rules.
A. Antitrust Regulation Threatens Liberty
The rights argument holds that the actions regulated by antitrust laws are voluntary and
should never be prohibited. The importance of liberty has consistently been neglected in
discussions of antitrust. Should an individual not have the right to use her property as she sees
fit? Why should a businessman not be free to restrain his own economic activities, either alone
or in tandem with others, should he wish to do so? It is important to note that the activities
prohibited under antitrust laws are invariably peaceable, whatever their merit under an efficiency
standard. Why should they not be permissible in a free society? In Adam Smith’s view, this
individual rights or justice standard is at least as compelling as an efficiency standard in judging
policy.16 Everyone recalls Smith’s famous warning on the nature of businessmen: “People of
the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment and diversion, but the conversation
ends in a conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise prices.” But few go on to
quote the following: “It is impossible indeed to prevent such meetings by any law which either
could be executed, or would be consistent with liberty and justice.” A concern for liberty should
temper even the most fervent antitrust advocate.
Bork, too, notes that when no affirmative reason for intervention is shown, “the general
preference for freedom should bar legal coercion.”17 Yet, despite such occasional nods towards
economic freedom, the Chicago School’s case for antitrust policy (particularly its opposition to
price fixing) seems to rest solely on economic efficiency. Antitrust regulators act as if rights had
16 See ADAM SMITH, THE WEALTH OF NATIONS. 17 BORK, supra note 4.
20
nothing to do with the matter. Notice that an individual is, of course, free not to produce at all;
however, if he does enter the market he must do so in a way that will not restrict output. In
effect, the antitrust laws act as if an individual should only be entitled to use her property in ways
that maximize output. With “conservative,” “pro-business” economists taking such a view, who
needs social democrats?
Antitrust threatens basic rights in other ways, too. Its unavoidable ambiguities and
uncertainties lead to government arbitrariness and favoritism in enforcement. These uncertainties
can also threaten the predictability necessary if citizens are to know when they are acting within
the law. The distinction between anti-competitive and pro-competitive actions depends to a very
large degree on the motives imputed to the firm and on the intelligence of the analysts seeking to
determine whether any efficiency case exists for the contested practice. Thus, one cost of
antitrust regulation is that the law becomes conditional, and conditional rights are threatened
rights. This tension between antitrust regulation and economic liberty merits more attention than
it has received to date.
B. Antitrust Cannot Distinguish Between Competitive and Anti-Competitive Practices
One of the most telling arguments against antitrust is its inability to distinguish between
competitive and anti-competitive practices. Given the complexity of the practices challenged by
antitrust regulators—and even those engaged in such practices are often confused about their
basic purposes—the antitrust laws inevitably create massive confusion. A businessman will
often be unsure whether a particular activity might trigger an antitrust investigation. Moreover,
as discussed below, this problem is exacerbated by the rent-seeking tendencies of all political
systems.
21
As noted earlier, we lack a consistent theory that could reliably and predictably
distinguish between competitive and anti-competitive behavior. One activity that might best be
handled at a supra-firm level is capacity expansion; uncoordinated investments may (and, in
many commodity sectors, routinely do) create massive inefficiencies. Yet coordination is suspect
—if not illegal—under the antitrust laws. But if an activity would be legal had the firms merged,
why should the same activity be considered illegal under partial merger arrangements?18
Antitrust theory lacks the non-price coordination theory that would allow meaningful judgments
in these areas.
Coase characterized the knowledge problem of antitrust in a brilliant aside in his article
on industrial organization:
One important result of this preoccupation with the monopoly problem is that if
an economist finds something—a business practice of one sort or another—that
he does not understand, he looks for a monopoly explanation. And as we are very
ignorant in this field, the number of ununderstandable practices tends to be rather
large, and the reliance on a monopoly explanation is frequent.19
These confusions are most likely to occur in the frontier sectors of the economy, where
innovations dominate. In other words, antitrust regulation is most likely to go awry in newer,
more complex areas of the economy where confusion and disruption are high. Populist
confusion and reactionary dismay—the dominant forces driving political predation—are also
likely in these areas.
18 See my discussion of partial mergers. 19 COASE, supra note 6, at 67.
22
The populist basis for antitrust is evidenced even by its rhetoric, which exemplifies the
tendency to use language to alarm rather than to inform. Consider, for example, the terms used to
condemn various business practices as anti-competitive: tying, bundling, predation,
discrimination. One might think one was dealing with a catalog of Victorian perversities rather
than challenged business practices. This is no accident.
That point is perhaps best glimpsed by considering Adam Smith’s discussion of allegedly
anti-competitive practices in The Wealth of Nations.20 In the midst of arguing against trade
protectionism, Smith pauses to discuss the costs of a different political policy—that of restricting
a range of activities engaged in by corn merchants. These laws, he noted, stemmed from the
general animus against middlemen, a problem dealt with by many classical liberal scholars.
Smith, however, addressed two practices in particular, forestalling and engrossing, which were
widely condemned. These terms are now obsolete, but they referred to activities clearly viewed
as “bad” in their day—as the pejorative terminology plainly indicates. These practices involved
the purchase of corn by a merchant, who then either resold it later in the same market, or later in
a different market. The goal, of course, was to profit from the arbitrage resulting from the
differential scarcities of the commodity over time and space. Smith noted:
“The popular fear of engrossing and forestalling may be compared to the popular terrors
and suspicions of witchcraft. The unfortunate wretches accused of this latter crime were
not more innocent of the misfortunes imputed to them, than those who have been accused
of the former [harming the consumer]. The law which put an end to all prosecutions
against witchcraft, which put it out of any man’s power to gratify his own malice by
accusing his neighbour of that imaginary crime, seems effectually to have put an end to
20 See SMITH, supra note 13.
23
those fears and suspicions, by taking away the great cause which encouraged and
supported them.”
Smith goes on to suggest that eliminating laws against domestic free trade would be equally
salutary in the commercial field. Let me suggest that these same sentiments apply to the antitrust
regulatory laws. Confusion about the nature of markets, together with a lack of understanding
about many business practices, make mistakes in the antitrust field all too likely. This tendency
toward error strongly supports rethinking the antitrust laws.
Hayek’s views on the dispersion of knowledge in modern society—his realization that
modern economies are based on institutional inter-dependency than on centralized knowledge—
also argues this point. Moreover, the tendency of antitrust authorities to treat what they do not
understand as inherently suspect becomes increasingly dangerous as the economy evolves, and
as the innovation frontier becomes correspondingly larger. But an economy can only expand if it
finds some way to use a greater fraction of this specialized and dispersed knowledge. Any one
person—even an antitrust agency—will be less and less able to assimilate and comprehend all
this knowledge. Therefore, antitrust mistakes are likely to increase as the economy becomes
more diverse and specialized. Primitive societies might craft antitrust rules that would do
minimal harm, but the likelihood that only minimal damage will be suffered decreases as the
society evolves. The gap between what everybody, and thus the regulator, may be expected to
know and the knowledge that will be available (often in an inarticulate manner) to creative
entrepreneurs pushing forward on the technological/institutional frontier is increasing. Thus, the
errors associated with the “fatal conceit” of intellectuals, who act as if they will know
competition when they see it, can only increase.
C. Antitrust Chills Dynamic Entrepreneurship
24
The entrepreneur seeks unexpected and undeveloped opportunities for
extraordinary earnings. By doing so, he thrusts society toward greater efficiency. Yet,
most economic modeling focuses on static equilibrium analysis. Whatever the value of
that model for tutorial purposes, it provides little insight into the methods and practices
used in the real world to seek such equilibrium. Such practices include product
differentiation, price competition, advertising and other sales techniques, variation in the
size and profitability of firms, technological innovation, and aggressive efforts to increase
market share. Yet ironically, when such equilibrating practices show up in a market, the
logic of the “perfect competition” model identifies them as “elements of monopoly.”21
In a truly competitive economy, all firms have some degree of “control” over their prices,
and all seek to maximize profits by restricting output to some degree. Any “profit” that may
result should be not be viewed as social waste, but rather as the dynamic incentive needed to
move the economy toward more efficient production technologies and a closer match to
consumer preferences. As Schumpeter explains in Monopolistic Practices:
[E]nterprise would, in most cases, be impossible if it were not known from the
outset that exceptionally favorable situations are likely to arise which exploited by
price, quality and quantity manipulations will produce profits adequate to tide
over exceptionally unfavorable situations provided these are similarly managed.
Again, this requires strategy that, in the short run, is often restrictive. In the
majority of successful cases, this strategy just manages to serve its purpose. In
some cases, however, it is so successful as to yield profits far above what is
21 See SMITH, supra note 11.
25
necessary in order to induce the corresponding investment. These cases then
provide the baits that lure capital on untried trails.22
A finding that prices exceed marginal cost may indicate nothing more than that the market is not
in equilibrium; in most sectors we would be very surprised if it were. In fact, these temporary
high profit and restricted output levels increase competitiveness. As Schumpeter noted, “There
is not more of a paradox in this than there is in saying that motorcars are traveling faster than
they otherwise would because they are provided with brakes.”23
There is little likelihood that an outsider would understand these transitory profitable
opportunities. Often, not even the innovator, driven by intuition as to “what works” and “what is
profitable,” will have any better understanding. As the economy becomes more complex and
these transitory opportunities become more specialized, the prospects for such outsider wisdom
begin to disappear rapidly. As a result, the chance that dynamic entrepreneurial activities will be
viewed as criminal can and will chill the discovery process. Unfortunately, any slowdown in the
critical discovery process penalizes us all.
Yet, nothing is more likely to excite the regulators at the DOJ or the FTC than the
emergence of new economic theories that justify intervention in rapidly evolving sectors of the
economy. After all, as Adam Smith has made clear, it is precisely these areas where public
confusion is likely to be greatest, irate displaced producers are most active, and newcomers will
most lack power.24 And where, perhaps most importantly, antitrust enforcement “solutions”—
such as the CRS consent decree discussed earlier—sharply limit innovative, competitive
practices.
22 SCHUMPETER, MONOPOLISTIC PRACTICES. 23 Id.
26
The anti-innovation bias of antitrust is often overlooked because most commentators
focus only on technological innovation—the intellectual property world of patents and copyright,
where monopolies are legal. Populist sentiments are not so easily aroused in this area, and so
antitrust tends to attack institutional innovations instead. Distrust of middlemen is widespread,
and institutional innovations are easily misunderstood—recall Adam Smith’s discussion of
engrossing and forestalling.
Moreover, the most substantial wealth-creating activities of recent times have been
institutional rather than technological. The successes of Walmart, the office supply superstores,
and even Microsoft can be attributed in large part to the ability of these companies to find new
ways of reducing the costs of buyer and seller finding each other, negotiating a “contract,” and
reaching an agreement. Sam Walton devised a slightly different way to market basic goods in
rural locations—an area largely neglected by more established firms. Office superstores, too,
realized that the marketing innovations that had revolutionized retail sales elsewhere had never
been applied in the office supply sector. Microsoft, for its part, created an electronic
supermarket that offers consumers a vast array of minor software products. While “staples” such
as spread sheets and word processing software would have been purchased even in the absence
of Microsoft—just as consumers still buy milk and bread in mom-and-pop stores—specialty
software products would never have broken into the pre-Microsoft market. Still, in many ways,
antitrust policy has changed little from the days of Alcoa25 when a superior firm was penalized
because it proved more able than its competitors to reach consumers with new products at
reasonable prices. That is certainly the “crime” of Microsoft.
D. Antitrust Impedes Efficient, Diverse Marketplaces
24 See my discussion of Smith.
27
One of the most persistent arguments in favor of political controls over technological and
institutional change is that regulation protects diversity by impeding the replacement of small
shops, however inefficient, with blandly uniform but highly efficient superstores. Market critics
seem certain that capitalism destroys a diverse world of small entrepreneurs and replaces it with
the dull uniformity of bland mass consumption. A wonderful world of diverse bakers and
brewers is transformed into the conformist marketplace of Wonder Bread and Budweiser Beer.
There is, of course, an element of truth in this argument. The history of many
commodities does testify to massive changes in industrial organization as some entrepreneurial
genius finds a new way of meeting an old need—sometimes by technological creativity, but
more often by institutional creativity. That process often requires standardization. It may mean
a more efficient production process (Henry Ford’s creation of the assembly line), a more
efficient distribution system (Amazon.com), a standardization of quality (over-the-counter
medications), or a reduction in risk (the creation product brands that allow small products to
enjoy the same guarantees as the commodity products). In each of these cases, a product that is
costly either in production, distribution, or selection becomes less costly. The rapid drop in price
creates a major shift to the new firm. Undoubtedly, many smaller firms lose business and
disappear. Whatever advantage in terms of quality that small firms may possess is soon
outweighed by the vast price reductions made possible by the innovation. As a result, we often
find a massive increase in the overall consumption of a product with the simultaneous
displacement of many earlier producers. We witness a shift from the diverse—albeit
inefficient—to the standard—albeit efficient—market process. Schumpeter found this process
25United States v. Aluminum Co. of America, 377 U.S. 271 (1964).
28
especially painful, as his highly descriptive term, the “destructive creativity of the market,”26
makes clear. Others, as well, consider this shift to be very destructive. How, they ask, does
society profit by moving from the inefficient but diverse to the efficient but homogeneous?
What values are lost when we sacrifice diversity?
Ending the analysis at this stage, however, fails to do justice to the dynamic creativity
that characterizes a voluntary society. People want both variety and efficiency. They want both
the security made possible by branding and the selection made possible by diversity. One soon
finds that innovative efficiencies, and the wealth released by their implementation, are also used
to introduce new efficiencies, and diversity soon reappears. Wonder Bread gives way, in part, to
Pepperidge Farm, while Budweiser gives way to Samuel Adams. The modern supermarket sells
many plain-vanilla products (not everyone is a gourmet, especially about every product), but it
also makes possible incredibly narrow niche products such as Bordeaux Cookies and Diet
Caffeine-Free Cherry Coke.
Over time, a creative marketplace may thus be viewed as following an hourglass pattern.
It starts from a broad base of inefficient diversity and narrows to a (monopolistic?) core of
efficient uniformity before spreading out again to a world of efficient diversity. Some will find
this process disturbing. They will recall the “best” aspects of the first stage, the worst of the
second, and will then accept without thought the integrative success of the latter stage. In the
process, however, the critics of the market will have their day, creating a vague belief that
somehow one could have skipped the middle phase, and that each small baker or brewery could
somehow have been transformed into the efficient producers of the final stage. The anti-market
intellectual is not bothered by the fact that no one can envision how such massive changes might
26 Id.
29
have occurred. The regulatory planner can always join the initial and final stages with a straight
line. Of course, this nostalgic view of traditional production practices is often highly unrealistic.
The creative peaks of most traditional systems are few and available to only a handful. Many
traditional systems were also subject to both low quality and high prices. This is a fact that most
intellectuals ignore.
E. Antitrust Regulation Ignores the Wisdom of Public Choice Theory
Few businessmen enjoy losing—and antitrust regulations encourage such individuals to
turn to government. Many will see their reversals not as unfortunate, nor as deserved, but rather
as the result of immoral, and perhaps criminal, anti-competitive practices. Moreover, as such
charges are typically brought by older, more established firms against newer, disruptive upstarts,
there will always be political leaders eager to lend their voice to such charges.
As Bork and others have shown, antitrust has often protected inefficient producers. In
much the same way that truckers file ICC complaints against rate discounters, these producers
will invoke government help to squelch their low-cost competition. From July 1976 to July
1977, private parties filed 1600 antitrust suits in federal courts. The government filed only 78.
Antitrust encourages firms to win their competitive fights by relying on Washington lawyers and
lobbyists rather than on engineers, scientists, and computer experts.
William Breit and Kenneth Elzinga, two commentators who are relatively sympathetic to
antitrust, have nonetheless observed that antitrust “affords inducements to customers to behave
perversely in hopes of collecting greater damages.”27 Part of the problem is that buyers “can
view the antitrust laws as a type of insurance policy against ‘poor purchasing’ and will at the
27 William Breit & Kenneth Elzinga.
30
minimum reduce their precautionary purchasing efforts.”28 Breit and Elzinga cite a 1951 case in
which an Arkansas canner refused to accept a shipment of cans because of a minor dispute over
freight pricing.29 The canner then sued the can maker for triple damages “for losses incurred
partly because the canning company had no cans.”30 Since 1951, Breit and Elzinga add, it has
become much harder for defendants to escape by citing this sort of “antitrust entrapment,” which
further encourages customers to try to strike it rich in the treble-damage sweepstakes.31
Although Schumpeter did not oppose all antitrust regulation, he recognized the risks that
antitrust policy might well be abused by self-interested parties. He feared that such tendencies
might limit the flexibility of industry to organize its own “advances” and “retreats.”32
Schumpeter noted that regulators were all too likely to be buffeted by the pressures of the
political process: "Rational as distinguished from vindictive regulation by public authority turns
out to be an extremely delicate problem which not every government agency, particularly when
in full cry against business, can be trusted to solve."33 Populist pressures dominate political
processes. Even those who believe that antitrust might have value will concede that such gains
might not be realized in practice. Too often, the ability to await further analysis is difficult
because the public—or more accurately, a vocal interest group claiming to represent the public—
dominates the policy-making process. Not surprisingly, antitrust authorities thus tend to view all
28 Id. 29 See Russellville Canning Co. v. American Can Co., 87 F. Supp. 484 (D. Ark. 1949). 30 See id. at 487. 31 BREIT AND ELZINGA, supra note 26. 32 Id. 33 Id.
31
price reductions as good and all price increases as bad. Many problems are created by this
situation, not the least of which is that firms may be loathe to lower rates, fearing that they will
be prevented from raising them if it later proves necessary.
This fear is not illusory, as the recent antitrust action blocking the merger of Staples and
Office Depot demonstrates. Staples launched the office supply superstore movement and
expanded rapidly. Each new community served benefited greatly. The success of Staples soon
attracted two other firms—Office Max and Office Depot—into the market. The office superstore
was clearly a frontier industry, and conditions were chaotic and murky. Since capacity
expansion plans could not readily be coordinated in this environment, two or even three stores
would sometimes be built in the same geographic area, leading to greater price decreases than
would have resulted from a single store. Of course, with more competitors, there was also
reduced profitability. Reduced profits not only created incentives to merge, but also slowed the
availability of retained capital to expand into areas not yet served, as the risk premium on
retained earnings likely was less than that available in the market. Consumers in communities
not yet served by such stores suffered from this slowdown in expansion, even though consumers
in the over-served areas benefited.
Had there been but one superstore, there would have been no problem; the extra stores
would not have been built. However, the existence of several firms made it more difficult for the
antitrust authorities to permit the mergers, as conflicting results would be achieved. Mergers
would not only result in higher prices locally—although prices would still be less than those in
communities lacking any superstore—but would also allow more retained earnings, thus
32
permitting faster expansion of superstores into communities not yet served, and resulting in
higher prices. Was consumer welfare truly well served in this case?
One final point on rent-seeking point may help explain the strange adherence of
economists to antitrust regulation: it is the one field where economic experts can earn (almost) as
much as lawyers. Self-interest is a powerful motivating force, and may do much to explain why
so little emphasis has been placed on antitrust reform, and why even less has been devoted to
arguing for repeal.
F. Antitrust Misdirects Entrepreneurial Talents
Perhaps nothing could exemplify more starkly the waste produced by antitrust regulation
than an experience I had last year. I, along with a handful of other policy types, met with Bill
Gates for lunch. Most of us had written about the antitrust lawsuit against Microsoft and
sympathized with the company’s plight. We expected discussion at lunch to center on the
problems of communicating the errors in the DOJ’s action against Microsoft to the public.
Instead, we found ourselves listening to Gates discuss the problems with modern antitrust
regulatory policy, a field in which he had obviously been doing much research. The vagueness
of the Sherman Act and the destructive nature of the decision in Alcoa34 horrified him. We,
however, were more shocked by the fact that one of the most creative individuals in America had
been diverted from modernizing the software industry and had instead become a policy wonk.
Can anything be more costly than to cause a unique individual like Bill Gates to spend his time
reading antitrust law?
The impact on the company as a whole has been equally pernicious. Key officials now
spend their time in Washington, D.C. rather than in Washington State. They focus on the
34 United States v. Aluminum Co. of America, 377 U.S. 271 (1964).
33
intricacies of court challenges and regulatory powers rather than on the impact of the internet on
future software needs. They meet with committee staff rather than customers. Antitrust distracts
entrepreneurial energy—a scarce commodity in any society—into bureaucratic second-guessing.
That cost has never been measured and is a major factor that must be weighed when considering
whether to repeal antitrust regulations.
IV. What Are the Steps to Reform?
One of the most important lessons to learn from the last two decades is that changes in
policy based only on changes in personnel are ephemeral. The failure of the Reagan and Bush
administrations to challenge legislatively the scope and scale of antitrust regulatory powers
meant that as soon as the people changed, so too did the policy. This experience teaches us yet
again that a pruned weed is a healthy weed. If we want to change policy, we must be willing to
undertake the long and painful process of making clear precisely why the repeal of antitrust is
critical. We must take advantage of any opportunity we receive to advocate this change in policy.
This necessity is especially pressing today, when we are witnessing a newly invigorated
antitrust establishment moving against railroads and airlines, fields that we had once thought
safely outside the regulatory regime. Older skeptics have been replaced by bright young
economists who are convinced that their advice is critical. They merrily invent new theories of
market failure, all the while explaining the risks of predatory innovation, path dependency, and
the inherent anti-competitive nature of economic networks. The priestly class is not about to
give up its prerogative so easily.
The striking similarities between Alcoa and the Microsoft case should give us all pause.
In both cases, an incredibly aggressive company has repeatedly reached the new market frontier
34
before its competitors in a sector that is innovative, output expanding, and price declining.
Neither sector is well understood by the general public. The means of transforming aluminum
ingots into final products was as strange then as the process of linking hardware and software is
today.
The past also suggests another precedent. There are risks that a “compromise” solution
may cripple the future of Microsoft and possibly the industry. Reflect again on the CRS case
discussed earlier. That antitrust challenge was ended by a consent decree. As noted earlier,
Richard Ferris of United Airlines, then the major defender of airline CRS practices, sought to
explain his actions to a skeptical Senate committee headed by Senator Kassebaum (R-KS). He
failed, and United junked its plans to provide the first “internet” service of integrated air, land,
and hotel packages.
What, then, can be done to prevent antitrust from destroying the potential of similarly
lucrative and innovative business solutions in the future? As an initial observation, all reform is
incremental, and there are many plausible first steps. For instance, we could eliminate all per se
illegal categories and allow the rule of reason to prevail, even in so-called “naked” price-fixing
cases. Let us find out whether the logic of the law can ignore the value of price stability. Laws
could also insist that market definitions consider the larger field in which the sector operates,
both geographically and economically. Swimming pools, for example, may well compete with
trips to Rome; movies may compete with opera tickets. The rules currently in force could be
modified so that firms standing to benefit from the enforcement of an antitrust action would not
be permitted to file suit against the other firm. A certain skepticism about “civic” virtue is
essential in such economic realms. Finally, the economic frontier could be placed entirely off-
limits to antitrust laws. There is no way to understand fully the changes wrought by
35
entrepreneurs until these innovations have been integrated into the larger economy. Therefore,
all novel practices should be considered legal until and unless a preponderance of evidence
suggests otherwise.
Since it is obvious that government can restrict competition, even if private actors cannot,
the most logical application of the antitrust regulatory rules would be against government-
sponsored cartels. Arguably that is the purpose of the Commerce Clause, but since the
Constitution is no longer in vogue, antitrust laws might play a positive role here. Agricultural
marketing orders, import quotas, and restrictions on the number of taxi cab and other operating
licenses demonstrate the magnitude of the problem.
Of course, government regulatory policies almost always entail an anti-competitive
element. FDA rules, for example, impose major cost and time penalties on medical technology;
those delays can best be absorbed by large, diverse firms. Such firms are large enough to create
the specialized staff needed to negotiate the regulatory maze, and they possess the assets needed
to ride out the lengthy approval processes. Small, entry-level firms are far less likely to succeed
in this environment and thus competition is muted. Antitrust action against the array of local,
state, and regulatory anti-competitive policies would at least inform the policy debate.
Unfortunately, the effort to do exactly that during the Reagan years was immediately shot down.
Conclusion
Since my own personal odyssey as a staunch opponent of antitrust began with the work
of Robert Bork, it seems appropriate to conclude by recalling his admonitions about the
importance of antitrust reform. The stakes are indeed high, as Bork emphasized: "Antitrust goes
to the heart of capitalist ideology, and since the law’s fate will have much to do with the fate of
36
that ideology, one may be forgiven for thinking that the outcome of the debate is of more than
legal interest.”35
Bork also expressed his dismay at what he considered the irresponsibility of modern
antitrust regulatory policy: "[M]odern antitrust has so decayed that the policy is no longer
intellectually respectable. Some of it is not respectable as law; more of it is not respectable as
economics; and . . . a great deal of antitrust is not even respectable as politics.36 To remedy that
dangerous deficiency, Bork articulated an array of cogent justifications for a wide range of
practices questioned by conventional antitrust theory—small horizontal mergers, vertical and
conglomerate mergers, vertical price maintenance and market division agreements, tying
arrangements, exclusive dealings and requirements contracts, “predatory” price cutting and price
“discrimination.” All of these practices, Bork showed, can enhance the competitive process and
have instead been foolishly discouraged by antitrust regulation in the past. Bork sounded the call
for reform over twenty years ago. Although it is long past time to heed his warning and repeal
antitrust regulation, we may still have time enough to begin.
35 BORK, supra note 5, at 425. 36 BORK, supra note 4, at 418.